


surprises, not secrets

by Ivegotaheadlineforyou



Category: The Grinning Man - Philips & Teitler/Grose & Morris & Philips & Teitler/Grose
Genre: Dea knits something for Grinpayne and it's cute, F/M, Fluff, Pre-Canon, canon body disfigurement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26306518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivegotaheadlineforyou/pseuds/Ivegotaheadlineforyou
Summary: Ursus teaches Dea to knit
Relationships: Dea/Gwynplaine | Grinpayne | Gwynplaine Trelaw
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	surprises, not secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ratcarney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratcarney/gifts).



> I do not own TGM! My first fic for the fandom!

In certain moments, Dea felt like a loose balloon. When in places she didn’t know, unaware of where she truly was and without any form of familiarity, she felt untethered. Sometimes, with Grinpayne by her side, she felt free, knowing that her partner in all things had her taken care of. But this was not always the case.

Before Ursus had a permanent cart for them, before they were able to stop unpacking and repacking every season, Dea found herself getting headaches at the process of learning new layouts, of learning new places. New sounds. New boundaries. Grinpayne lead her around new cities, whispering softly to her what they were experiencing, as her cane took note of each cobblestone and Mojo walked beside her. Around the fairgrounds, Grinpayne and Dea wandered at night with Mojo, getting their feel for their new half-home, learning where the booths with the delicious smelling food were, finding their way back home each and every time.

And each time they moved, like clockwork, Dea was taken by horrendous headaches, so strong nothing Ursus could whip up could fix it. Grinpayne sat in bed with her, reading stories to her and holding her close when he could, humming their songs to her. His arms, his words, his presence, anything to give Dea something familiar. Dea, surrounded by new voices and new noises, having to remember street names and routes home, found comfort in the things she could touch.

One thing that never changed, though, was the clicking and tapping of Ursus’ knitting needles. When Grinpayne and Dea came to him, so long ago, he couldn’t afford to clothe them in the things that would keep them warm. So he carefully took apart old sweaters, took apart old coats to repurpose into things that would fit. He made Dea a long patchwork skirt out of the lining of a wool coat. He took apart tattered purple gloves he had bought years ago, crocheted the pieces into a small shawl for her. His Dea deserved to feel pretty, Ursus thought.

Grinpayne was much easier to dress, Ursus’ old clothes only needed simple tailoring. Dea and Grinpayne grew up hearing the clicking of needles, the sound of thread being pulled through stitches. The sound of creating warmth.

“Would you ever teach me to knit, father?” Dea once asked, curled up with Mojo in front of a fire. Grinpayne sat near to her, his leg brushing her knees as they poked out of her skirt. Dea liked moments like this — those she loved so near to her. Her mended family — once shattered and torn apart, stitched together and mended. In these moments at least.

“I never knew you wished to learn, Dea,” Ursus said softly. She could tell he wasn’t looking up from his project. Dea nodded, a smile showing up on her lips.

“It’d be nice, I think,” she said, leaning forward. Mojo perked his head up but she continued to scratch his ear. “It’d be nice to have something to do with my hands when Grinpayne and I are not performing.”

And so Ursus taught her. Crouched together on the floor, his hands guiding hers. He taught her the motions first — where to hold the yarn, how to make sure the stitches were pulled taught. Ursus smiled as she picked up the skill easily. Making small patches, just squares out of worn and soft yarn. When she finished, she unpicked them, making it again. Grinpayne liked to sit near to her and watch. Her eyes facing forward as she made stitch after stitch in the evenings after their shows. There were many a night that, as Grinpayne read and Dea knit, she would fall asleep against his chest. He would pluck the project from her hands, and gently lay it on the table nearest to her. Then he’d kiss her forehead and slide away to his bed, wanting nothing than for sleep to be over soon, so he would have the chance to see Dea once more.

One day, toward the end of the summer, Dea found Grinpayne lying inside the cart. The soft, unbothered sound of his even breath told her all she needed. She whispered to Mojo to bring her outside — to take her to a friend.

“Osric? Is that you?” Dea asked, her fingers combing through Mojo’s fur. They hadn’t been walking for long, and Dea could tell at this point where they were on the fairground. She heard a smile in his voice.

“Aye! What can I do for you, Miss Dea?” He reached out to touch her elbow, letting her know his proximity. She smiled in his direction.

“I need some help at the yarn shop, off the main street. It’ll be quick. Would you mind accompanying me?

“Is Grinpayne not well enough to accompany you?” Osric was happy to walk with her into the shops, but it was so rare to see one without the other, Beauty without the Beast.

A sly look came across Dea’s face as she leaned closer. “It’s a surprise.”

And Osric, always in the market for a little mischief, simply chuckled. “Well you’ve come to the right person.”

She linked her arm inside of his, her hand on his elbow, with Mojo at her side, and they walked. Osric pointed out small details of the big, bustling city around them, and Dea, with stars in her eyes, drank it up. He had once watched Grinpayne do the same, from their perch outside of Ursus’ cart, and he thought she might enjoy it. Dea was a light to all who lived and worked on the fairground, always seeming to have gentle words and a kind smile to whomever she came across. If she needed help surprising her most dear, Osric was happy to help.

Once inside the shop, Dea let go of Osric to feel around the different materials, whilst he went to smooth talk the shop worker. Mojo followed Dea around at her heels, making sure to guide her path. She had stopped in once before, with Grinpayne. But while she was in awe of the yarn, Grinpayne found himself in awe of one particular kind. It was green, he described, like the forest on a misty morning. And it had little dots of brown and tan scattered through it. And when he placed it in her hands, it was _soft_. So soft. She imagined the kind of comfort it would bring Grinpayne, wrapped around his neck and face during the cold months. But when it came down to it, she wasn’t prepared for the price tag.

“Excuse me?” Dea called out in the direction of the shopkeepers voice. “I’m having trouble finding a particular skien… would you be so kind and help me?” Joined by the shopkeeper, she described what she was looking for, the exact weight in her hands, the colours just as Grinpayne had described them. And when she placed it in her palms, Osric watched Dea’s face light up.

Once she had bought the yarn, and tucked in into her bag, Osric and Dea began walking home.

“So what are you planning on making for the boy?” He asked as they walked, navigating the uneven cobblestones.

“A scarf,” she said. “A big, long one. One that will keep him nice and warm, and feel soothing against his cheeks. The one he has now is quite rough, and winter wind is not good for his scars.”

Osric made a sound of understanding and Dead nodded, reaching down to pet Mojo on the head as he walked lazily at her side. “How are you going to make it without him noticing?”

“After performances. He takes his medicine and sleeps for a while. I’ll have plenty of time to make it before the snow starts.”

And she was right — only a month later, as the wind started to pick up, and the heavy humidity of late summer gave way to crisp leaves and cool breezes, Dea finished the scarf. She had Ursus inspect it every so often, to make sure her stitches were even. She would wait until Grinpayne was asleep, before she wrapped it around her neck to check the length. Still worried that she would be caught, she knit with her hands under a blanket, so that even if Grinpayne were to wake, she would not be caught.

Grinpayne awoke one morning, and his scar was bleeding. The cold had set in overnight and his skin was tight when he awoke. Dea sat with him and held his hand whilst Ursus applied balm to the chapped areas of his face, before taking care to wrap his mouth back up in one of his bandages.

“I need to go see the chemist. get some more ingredients for this balm,” he said, wrapping himself in layers before stepping out into the wild snow and wind.When the door shut, Dea heard grin payne sigh, heard the weight settle on his shoulders.

“What’s wrong, prince Grinpayne?” Dea asked, a smile on her lips as she reached out to hold him closer. He moved closer to her, and let his forehead rest against her shoulder. she reached up to gentle trace her fingers from his ear, down his jawline. back and forth. just a gentle touch.

“The cold. It makes it hurt more,” he murmured, moving his face as little as possible. “I don’t like having to be tended to.” She smiled and let her cheek rest against his head. “I particularly like tending to you. You saved me once from the snow. I’m happy to repay the favour.”

He made a soft hum in the back of his throat. They stayed still for a moment. a quiet stretch of time where the pain was no worse and no better, but the feeling of holding one another made it more and more bearable.

“I have something for you,” Dea said softly, shifting backwards and out of his arms. “For the winters.” He let go of her, watching her sightless eyes dart around the room. There was an air of joy about her — as if she was the one receiving a gift.

“Close your eyes,” she instructed him, standing up from her spot on his bed. He furrowed his brow.

“It’s a surprise,” she said, taking his silence as confusion, which it was.

“You’ve been keeping secrets?” Grinpayne asked, closing his eyes as instructed.She giggled as she reached into the bag that sat on her bed. “Not secrets. Only surprises.”

He heard her shifting around, standing in front of him, and then all of a sudden, resting a soft piece of fabric over the back of his neck. He relaxed under the comforting weight, relaxing into her touch more as she wrapped the fabric around his neck.

“Open your eyes,” she whispered, standing still in front of him. When he blinked open, and looked at the scarf that wrapped around his neck, he felt a lump in his throat. It was the green he had admired many months ago, the rich tone weaved into tight stitches, and giving him enough length to cover his bandages.

“Dea…” He sighed, looking up at the woman in front of him. She was smiling brightly at him, incredibly proud of her work. He reached out to take her hands in his and pull her closer. She reached out, placing her hands on either side of his face, shifting to sit on his knee.

“Now you’ll have something to keep you warm this winter. Do you like it, Grinpayne?”

He knew she wouldn’t be able to see the expression on his face — the one of awe, and joy and blissful awareness that he did not deserve this kindness. but it shone through anyways. His eyes were alight with the feeling that he was the luckiest man on earth. “For me?”

Dea laughed, her voice trilling like bells. “No, for Mojo,” she responded laughing. “Of course it’s for you. Do you like it?” she asked, while reaching up to adjust the scarf around him. She draped it over the back of his head, letting it rest atop his curly hair, draping it down over his shoulders, wrapping it around the bottom half of his face. He relaxed into the feeling of soft wool against the bits of his scar that peeked out of the bandage. It felt like Dea’s fingers, skirting softly and gently over the most raw and tender parts of himself. She had done the same to his heart. His heart, shattered and broken had been healed by Dea. Holding her creation in his hands, seeing the deep green of her handiworkwrapped close to his most tender of scars, gave him comfort. took away his pain.

He reached out to cup her cheeks, pulling her closer, dropping kisses all over her cheeks. She giggled loudly, leaning into his affection. “I love it, Dea,” he said between kisses. When he ceased his kisses, they were all but lying horizontal. Dea smiled and reached out towards him, letting her hand rest on his chest.

“you did not have to spend your pocket money on me, Dea,” He whispered, pressing another kiss against her forehead. It was longer, more intentional. She chuckled and curled into him more, pulling a blanket around the both of them.

“Oh hush. I won’t hear any of that,” she said, smiling. “You deserve soft, fine things. I cannot take your pain away, but I just hope I can make it more bearable.” she murmured, tucking herself into Grinpaynes arms, his new scarf providing a soft pillow for her head.

Grinpayne didn’t respond. He only held Dea closer. Curled together in Grinpayne’s bunk, safe from the cold and the wind, Grinpayne felt light as air, unburdened by his pain.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed. Thank you Jo RatCarney for your help on this piece <3 Love you always.
> 
> follow me on tumblr for more antics! @brightas-asrose


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